


DragonChef!

by Iskah_nha_Linza



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iskah_nha_Linza/pseuds/Iskah_nha_Linza
Summary: Set a little before "A Flash of Gold," right before the Fourth Pass. Ista Weyr, all original characters, mostly canon.





	1. No More Than What It Is

J'ray, one of the best Istan wingleaders, was furious. Drills were not going as well as he wished. The fact that his wing was still performing better in their practices than the other wings according to Weyrleader N'mon made no difference in J'ray's mind. It was his duty to train a perfect wing, so that no one died in Threadfall. Nothing less than perfection would suit him.

“B'fit, tell Merth to watch his form!” he now shouted at his good-natured wingsecond. “He's cutting the corners too close and carrying you half-lopsided!”

  
“I'm staying on, aren't I?” the brownrider asked, chuckling. B'fit, who also served as the weyrharper, was the only rider in their wing who dared to speak back to J'ray in such a manner, an exception that he contributed to being almost two decades older than J'ray. However, B'fit and Merth both moved with a lightning-fast energy that belied B'fit's fifty-odd years.

  
“You've got to do more than stay on! Oh, shards! Can't you make that overgrown brown firelizard of yours use his tail to balance you better than that? Oeth, speak to Merth, please!”

  
With an amused look between brown Merth and J'ray's bronze Oeth, Merth followed the wingleader's instructions before Oeth had a chance to relay the message.

  
_Merth says that he can hear you just fine_ , Oeth told his rider. _He says that dragons have long ears. That is what his rider says._ Oeth sounded unconvinced. _Are my ears longer than Merth's? I am a bronze, so my ears should be longer than a brown's._ The dragon sounded a little indignant about this.

  
_Everything about you is perfect, including your ears_ , J'ray answered, and a knot of tension that he had been carrying in his shoulders started to drain away as he felt Oeth's warm voice in his mind.

  
J'ray moved on to the blues and greens, bellowing more directions to improve their spatial positioning, riders' postures, and reaction times. His wing, who knew they were best in their Weyr because of the long, hard practices, did their best to obey the instructions. They all knew what lay at stake, and they all landed at once on the ground to repeat the drill, this time with flames.

  
“Halt!” bellowed J'ray, as one of his wing's green dragons suddenly launched herself into the air, her bewildered rider still holding the sack of firestone that he had been about to put on her. All the blues and most of the browns immediately followed. With a furious look, J'ray slapped S'per, the green's rider, hard across the back, shouting, “Stay with her! Why did you bring her to drill so close to rising, man? Some warning would have been nice, you poor excuse for a herdbeast!”

  
“I didn't know,” S'per said. His eyes showed his true shock at Fisith's sudden flight, and J'ray exhaled a loud, perturbed breath and forced himself to calm down. As wingleader, he would have to deal with this later; right now, it was more important to keep the dragons and riders safe. With that thought, his own bronze dragon launched himself into the air after the smaller dragons with a sudden motion.

  
_Oeth, what are you doing?_ J'ray demanded. “If your dragon's not flying, you're dismissed!” he yelled at the rest of his wing. He noticed Derry, green Linneth's rider, take charge of the youngest riders, sending them back to the Weyr.

  
_I am trying to catch Fisith, of course,_ the large bronze answered.

  
_But you haven't chased a green in over a turn!  I thought you only wanted the queens now!_

  
_The greens were getting too easy to catch, but this time I gave the others a head start,_ Oeth replied, sounding as cocky as J'ray himself sometimes did, and then J'ray felt his dragon's thoughts focusing only on the flight. Caught up in the steady and fast beating of Oeth's wings, J'ray found himself also thinking only of catching Fisith, whose glowing green color was not much brighter than her usual brilliant hide. No wonder S'per had not seen her change colors—J'ray had not noticed it himself when the wing had gathered to begin their drill. As wingleader, that made this unexpected turn of events as much his fault as S'per's. He would have to mentally flagellate himself later, though—he had to stop fighting to stay rational right now and simply let dragon-nature take its course.

  
Oeth overtook one of the browns first and focused on passing the others. Soon, only Jusuth, the fastest of the blues, was ahead of them. However, Jusuth was close enough to Fisith that J'ray felt a rush of disappointment from Oeth, but it did not deter the bronze dragon, who was flying in their direction about a dragon-length below the smaller pair's altitude. Despite his closeness, Jusuth could not manage to catch the green, as she kept swooping upward just out of his reach. Jusuth reached out once more for her as Oeth came up underneath them, and with a sudden change of direction, Fisith swooped downward and the large bronze caught her. J'ray felt S'per's slim body in front of his, and his last rational thought was that the greenrider was as tall as J'ray himself, which hardly mattered at all, but was the only part of a green flight that J'ray found physically preferable. Again, not that it mattered... As they brought their dragons home, it didn't matter at all.

J'ray opened his eyes, propped himself up on an elbow, and looked around. The events of the flight quickly came back to him, and he realized that the reason that he felt like he was freezing cold was because he was, in fact, naked and lying on the ground outside. Some time must have passed because the sun had all but disappeared below the horizon. Reaching over, he shook S'per awake. Everyone else was gone, probably back to their weyrs to give the two men some privacy. Mating flights did not usually happen while the riders were out in the open, J'ray reflected, wryly. He felt Oeth's contented slumber nearby and squinted in the near dark until his eyes located the smaller shape of Fisith, also drowsing.

  
“Wingleader?” the younger man, blinking his eyes.

  
“Yeah. Are you all right? I mean, I didn't—”

  
“I'm fine, wingleader. You didn't hurt me,” S'per told him.

  
“Good. Come on,” J'ray said, hastily sorting out their clothes. “It's the rainy season, and there's no point camping out and ending up in a downpour.”

  
“Right,” S'per mumbled, pulling on his trousers and quickly belting them.

  
J'ray finished dressing, too, and started walking toward his dragon. _Wake up_ , he urged Oeth. _Let's get back inside before the night air makes you sick and you turn green._

  
_I am not a green. I am a bronze_. Oeth was confident of that.  


  
_Well, I'll turn green if I have to sleep out here, so come on!_ J'ray's mental voice was full of both love and impatience, and his dragon quickly moved toward him, crouching so that J'ray could climb on. J'ray could make out S'per climbing on Fisith before they blinked out between.

  
The men were both soon in their own beds, each in his own comfortable weyr. As he drifted off to sleep, J'ray thought to himself that there was one nice thing about a green/bronze flight—there was no need to make anything more of than what it was.


	2. Bread Before Dawn

As usual, J'ray awoke well before sunrise the next morning. He knew that breakfast would not be ready yet, but he went to the kitchen anyway, knowing that Retti, the little old headwoman, would be supervising the bakers and that he could always talk her into a thick slice of the first loaf of bread. He didn't bother eating bread any other time of the day; as far as J'ray was concerned, bread that hadn't just come out of the oven wasn't worth eating, and in the Weyr one could afford to be a little bit choosy, especially if one happened to be a bronzerider and a wingleader.

White-haired Retti, who claimed to be into her eighth decade, did not move as fast as she used to, but she still managed the Lower Caverns with the help of her staff and did more than her fair share of the harder work herself. Although the red-headed Weyrwoman Sakora had offered several times to let the still-feisty headwoman retire comfortably anywhere on Pern, Retti cheerfully refused, claiming that she wanted to work right up until the day she fell over. Sakora had quietly told the other goldriders that it was a relief that Retti wanted to continue working, since the Lower Caverns always fell into chaos those few times each Turn when Retti fell ill or went to visit her extended family for a couple of days.

“Good morning, beautiful,” J'ray said, as he strode into the kitchen, bending to kiss the headwoman on the cheek. As usual, she was in the middle of firing off a string of directions to the women working around her while keeping a practiced eye on the drudges, as well.

“Good morning, nuisance,” she replied, but she gave him a mischievous smile that made J'ray think to himself once again that if he had only been born into his grandfather's generation, Retti could have been his ideal woman. “That small loaf there is just out of the oven, and since it's far too small to serve, we may as well just split it. Jebbi, get Wingleader J'ray some fresh butter, please, and bring us two mugs of klah.”

As the other woman scurried to do the headwoman's bidding, J'ray found himself seated across from Retti at a small table with the best view of the kitchen. After Jebbi had brought them the klah and butter and Retti had sent her off to the storerooms for another task, the headwoman fixed her keen eyes on J'ray and asked, “So, how did yesterday's practice go?”

J'ray snorted. “I'm sure word has gotten around by now.”

“If you mean that Oeth caught Fisith, yes, it has,” Retti said. “But I've lived in the Weyr for over sixty years now, so I'm relatively confident that I know how _that_ went.”

“Well, then, to answer your question, practice was going quite well until it was cut short.” J'ray frowned when he realized what he had just admitted. “That stays between us, though, right? I don't want the wing getting cocky...”

“If anyone has the audacity to ask me, I will tell them that you said they look like the back end of a half-eaten runnerbeast,” Retti said, chuckling. She patted the Wingleader's hand in a motherly fashion.

“Thank you,” J'ray said, flashing a rare grin.

“So, do you think Oeth was practicing for Rowath's next flight?” Retti asked.

“The thought occurred to me,” the Wingleader admitted. “But, well... I've never heard of dragons doing that. It's generally understood that dragons do not have a great deal of foresight.”

Retti snorted. “Lots of things are generally understood and still not always true. When Allth used to talk to me, I was often surprised at his intelligence and understanding because I had been told the same as you, growing up.”

“Allth used to talk to you?” Although Retti's long-time lover, L'kar, had been a bronzerider, J'ray had never met him or his dragon, as the pair had died before J'ray's arrival at Ista Weyr.

“Yes,” Retti said, fondly. “We had a special bond, L'kar, Allth, and me. Toward the end, Allth often spoke to both of us at the same time. I think he wanted to save L'kar the trouble of having to repeat his words to me.”

“Did you ever hear other dragons?” J'ray asked, curious. He had always wondered how Retti had never impressed a gold.

“No,” Retti said, adding with a sly smile, “and I had a few lovers in the Weyr before I took up with L'kar, so I was very aware of how special it was for Allth to speak to me.” Retti lowered her voice to a whisper that would not be overheard by the kitchen workers and turned quite serious. “Speaking of dragons, I have a special request to ask of you and Oeth.”

J'ray said nothing, but looked at her questioningly.

She reached over for his hand again, this time clasping it in hers. “Now, I don't mean to worry you or anyone else because I'm feeling as well as ever, but one must be prepared at my age. When my times comes—and, mind you, not a second before—I was hoping you would take my body between on Oeth. That is where L'kar and Allth went, of course, and it would give me great comfort to know that my final resting place will be the same as theirs.”

J'ray was touched. “Of course, Retti. Just don't go taking my agreement as permission to go dying on us, now.”

With another smile, Retti released his hand. “I assure you that I am not planning my death. I'm just planning for it. As long as there are things to be done, I plan to be doing them. Speaking of which, I should be getting back to work. The other riders will be wanting their breakfasts soon.”

J'ray stood up and gave Retti a hand to help her to her feet, which she graciously accepted. “Lazy as a just-fed dragon, every last one of them,” he said, referring to the other still-sleeping riders.

“No, my dear. They are all perfectly normal, and you are the exception to the rule,” the headwoman said, in parting.

 


	3. The Best-Laid Plans

When J'ray left the kitchen, he passed several members of his wing entering the dining area. B'fit was entertaining some of the younger riders with a tale of how he had once fallen off Merth while flying over the Southern Sea when he decided to fly with only one set of straps instead of the proper gear. “Fortunately, we were over water. Also fortunately, I'm a pretty good swimmer. But most fortunately, Merth got to me quickly because I was too far out to swim all the way back to shore. Merth snatched me out of the water and went _between_ with me back to the Weyr. He arrived right in front of the Weyrwoman and Retti and put me down as gently as he could in front of them. They got me inside quickly, but I still caught a chill from being wet while _between_ that kept me laid up for the rest of the season.”

“So, the lesson to be learned is never fly over water?” joked one of the blueriders.

“No, the lesson is: don't be a wherry-brain,” said J'ray, stopping to frown at the bluerider. “It's also to wear your straps so that you don't fall out of the sky.” As he snapped these words, he saw S'per approach from the other end of the hall.

“Good morning, B'fit, K'ber, H'gon, P'nel,” S'per greeted his wingmates.

J'ray raised his eyebrows at the omission of his own name. “Good morning, S'per,” he said, evenly. He hoped that if he conveyed his own ease about what had happened the previous day, S'per would follow suit.

“Oh, good morning, Wingleader. I didn't see you behind K'ber,” S'per replied, not making eye contact. Since J'ray stood stood at least a hand higher than K'ber, he felt that was unlikely, but chose not to make the moment more awkward for S'per than it was. Instead, J'ray settled for an icy glare in B'fit's direction, since his wingsecond was starting to shake with the effort of holding in his laughter.

_Oeth, I love you, but you made things sharding difficult by catching one of our own wingmates,_ J'ray thought, knowing his dragon was asleep.

_What?_ a sleepy Oeth responded, in his mind.

_Nothing. Go back to sleep. I was just thinking too loudly._

_I am not sleepy anymore, but I AM dirty and itchy,_ Oeth complained.

_I am coming out to bathe and oil you right now,_ J'ray promised.

*

A short time later, J'ray was up to his armpits in the bay, the majority of his clothing was safely out of the reach of the lapping waves, and he was scrubbing Oeth while the dragon splashed playfully. The morning was warm, but not uncomfortably hot as it would be in summer, and J'ray was content to focus on nothing but his dragon's health and happiness at that moment. In fact, he had fallen into such a meditative state that he failed to notice the great golden dragon joining the pair until she broke the surface of the water with such a force that J'ray lost his balance and went under momentarily.

When he found his footing again, he stood up to see the Weyrwoman grinning at him. “Really, now, J'ray, is that all the more alert you train your wing to be?”

“Oeth didn't warn me!”

_Rowath told me not to,_ his dragon replied, matter-of-factly.

Although she was about fifteen Turns older than J'ray, Weyrwoman Sakora was still a striking woman, and J'ray admired the way she kept the Weyr—and the Weyrleader, N'mon, in line. While N'mon enjoyed the physical health that most older dragonriders possessed, he was becoming less active with every passing year, and J'ray suspected that Rowath's next flight would bring about a new Weyrleader. He considered himself one of three or four frontrunners and hoped Oeth would bring him the honor.

Oeth, knowing that J'ray was thinking about him, looked inquiringly in his rider's direction. _You would like me to fly Rowath when she rises,_ the dragon said.

_Yes, I would. Would you like that?_ J'ray asked.

_Of course. She is the senior queen, and I am big enough and old enough now to catch her,_ Oeth boasted. _I have caught plenty of greens!_

“Rowath says to stop mooning over her and help scrub if you are done with Oeth,” Sakora called out, chuckling. J'ray blushed, but he swam in the gold pair's direction as Oeth took flight so that he could dry off on the beach. Sakora began scrubbing Rowath's right side, as J'ray approached the golden dragon's left. Rowath rolled an eye in his direction as he nodded a greeting to her before he stretched up to help clean her.

The two worked in silence for some time, J'ray feeling unsure if he should attempt small talk with Sakora or not. At last, Sakora laughed, apparently at something Rowath had said to her.

“Rowath wants to go to sleep now,” Sakora explained, “but she asked me to thank you for helping because you are good at cleaning dragons, Bronzerider.”

“Well, Oeth gives me plenty of practice,” J'ray said, dryly, but with a deep bow in Rowath's direction.

It didn't take the two dragons or their riders long to dry as the sun rose higher in the morning sky. They quickly put their riding gear back on and flew back to the Weyr bowl, with Sakora throwing J'ray a quick good-bye wave as she headed for the senior queen's weyr. He found himself wondering how the Weyrwoman passed the time while her queen slept. Besides caring for her dragon, like all riders, she also had her administrative duties, J'ray mused. He knew she spent a lot of time instructing Loya, the junior queenrider, in the running of the Weyr, also.

It was almost time for the noon meal, which J'ray always ate with his wing. Entering the dining room, he sat down beside B'fit. “Ready for this evening?” J'ray asked his wingsecond.

“I suppose. Evening training is a little cooler than morning training, I suppose.” B'fit held the eye of one of the women carrying a pot of _klah_. She hurried over and filled his mug, blushing and smiling at the brownrider. To J'ray's amusement, she then wandered off without filling his own mug. Another of the women rushed over to do so.

“Blech!” J'ray said, spitting his first mouthful back into the mug and disgustedly pushing it across the table.

“It's not that bad,” B'fit said in a toneless voice, his eyes following the woman who had smiled at him.

“Your taste buds have been burnt off by all that cheap quickal that you've been drinking,” J'ray scoffed. “Or else you're projecting your feelings for the woman that served it into the _klah._ Because I assure you, my friend, what you're drinking is rank mud water.”

B'fit finished his _klah_ and set the mug down, grinning at J'ray. “You know, there's nothing as unmanly as a picky eater.”

“I ride a bronze,” J'ray retorted.

“And it's a good thing for the Weyr that he isn't as fussy an eater as you are.”

“I'm not a fussy eater. I'll eat almost anything if I'm hungry enough. I just don't pretend it's good when it's not.”

B'fit laughed and let his wingleader have the last word as the servers approached them with bowls of fish chowder and cracklings.

“Mmm,” J'ray sighed, after swallowing the first mouthful. “No one makes chowder like Retti.”

“Well, no. How could they? No one else has her recipes,” said one of the blueriders, sitting down across from B'fit.

“Surely, someone does.” F'sal, a greenrider, and his weyrmate, M'len, joined the group. “I mean, Retti isn't going to live forever, so why wouldn't she pass her secrets on to her successor? Maybe the Weyrwoman has all the good ones written down somewhere.”

M'len snorted. “They're just recipes, not the Teaching Ballads. If Retti's die with her, the next headwoman will have the cooks make whatever they know how.”

J'ray found himself becoming irrationally annoyed by the turn of the conversation. He didn't like thinking of a time when Retti wouldn't be available for good advice and good bread.

_ You are angry, _ said Oeth, in his mind. His dragon was upset.

J'ray remembered that dragons generally lived in the present moment and pulled his thoughts back to the immediate future—evening training for fighting Thread.

_I am fine now,_ he reassured Oeth.

_You were angry with M'len_ , Oeth persisted. _Do you want me to bespeak Vieth?_

_No, I was just... irritated, and I am fine now,_ J'ray repeated.

J'ray felt Oeth's relief. _Are we going to practice flaming again?_ the bronze asked.

_Yes, we will all go out when we are done eating,_ J'ray answered, amused.

_Oh, good! I like to flame!_ came his dragon's happy response.

_Remember, this is not a game,_ J'ray cautioned his dragon. _We are preparing for Thread._

Oeth made a determined noise. _We must flame Thread,_ his dragon said in agreement.

 


	4. Stay with Me

J'ray not only carefully looked over the green dragons in his wing that evening at practice, but he asked Oeth to do so, as well. _None of them are proddy,_ his dragon reassured him. _Can we fly now?_

J'ray gave the signal, and all of the dragons moved into formation. With a last cursory glance at his wing, he gave the signal to launch upward _._ After another signal, they went _between_ to a spot high above a grove of fruit trees some distance from Ista Hold.

“All right,” J'ray called out, Oeth relaying his message to the other dragons to be passed on to their riders. “Fly!” he called out, signaling again

The dragons went into a dizzying display of swoops and turns, demonstrating how they would protect the fruit grove when Thread started falling again. From Oeth's back, J'ray enjoyed the cool rush of air on his face as his dragon picked up speed, but the critical portion of his mind made notes about where his wing's flying could improve. B'fit, so lazily cheerful on the ground, was flying like a madman, with far more speed than J'ray would have thought capable of Merth. B'fit needed to be careful, though, because he was flying dangerously close to M'len's air space.

_I will tell Merth to be more careful,_ offered Oeth.

_Go ahead, then,_ J'ray replied.

After a short pause, Oeth said, _He promises_.

When the sun started to set, J'ray halted the wing. “F'sal, you're flying too low. I know it's not a problem right now, but you have to imagine the queen's wing below you. S'per, remind Fisith to keep her head up for the same reason. If the Weyrleader agrees, we'll practice with another wing tomorrow. B'fit, old man...”

“Yeah, yeah, Oeth told us. Mind our own air space.”

“All right then. Let's head back.”

“Can we get some of those redfruits first?” asked B'fit, staring at the largest tree, longingly.

“Seriously?”

“Won't take but a second,” B'fit said, with a wink. He climbed onto Merth, fastened his straps, and the two flew straight up to the tree. Merth slowed enough that he seemed to hover in the air as they came within arm's reach of the redfruit tree, and B'fit, with great aplomb, snagged one right off the branch.

The whole wing, including a reluctantly laughing J'ray, applauded the pair's skill before they blinked _between_ back to their own weyrs. J'bie, the youngest bluerider in J'ray's wing, tagged along behind B'fit as they checked their straps and put their flying gear away, asking him questions about how he had mastered his trick.

*

Sakora opened the door to the Weyrleader's office when J'ray knocked. N'mon, the gray-haired Weyrleader smiled at J'ray over her shoulder and motioned for him to enter. “I'll leave you two to speak in private,” Sakora said, closing the close behind her, with an impish smile.

“Sit down,” N'mon said, genially. “I saw your wing leaving today. They looked good. Are they flying as well?”

“It's hard to be objective,” J'ray admitted. “I always see room for improvement. I've been accused by B'fit of being too hard on them all at times.”

N'mon chuckled. “In that case, I would think that you are being just hard enough. I would like to see your drills, though. Would you object to me showing up to watch some time?”

“Not at all. In fact, the reason that I came to talk to you is that I think we are ready to start drilling with the other wings. Would you want to share a practice with us?”

N'mon grinned broadly. “Are you still training over the western redfruit grove?” At J'ray's nod, N'mon added, “See you there, then. Right after noon, so don't eat too much to fly fast!”

*

J'ray said nothing to his wing that evening about their plans, and Oeth seemed more than happy to keep the secret from the other dragons when he asked, as well. To J'ray's surprise, however, N'mon did not arrive alone the next day; Sakora and Loya were both on their golden dragons when J'ray and his wing assembled above the fruit grove, as well as two of the female greenriders. All of the women were suited up to fly, and Sakora and Loya had flamethrowers with them.

_The queens are happy that they were invited to join us,_ Oeth reported, delight in his voice. J'ray did not bother pointing out that _he_ had not been the one to think of issuing the invitation; it must have been N'mon's idea. He hoped that the presence of the two queen dragons would urge his wing to execute their drills even better than their previous practices—and not make their riders too nervous to perform well.

_I always try my best_ , Oeth said, following his thoughts.

_I know. Let's show the Weyrleader you're the best right now, all right?_

With Oeth's happy consent ringing in his head, J'ray watched for N'mon to signal the beginning of the drill. The riders excitedly fed their dragons firestone from the sacks that N'mon and the queens had brought along, the Weyrwomen helping to distribute it while giggling over the silliness of doing weyrlings' work. Then the wings went _between_ to the same configurations in which they had arrived in the air. At another signal, they began to swoop and perform a series of aerial maneuvers that J'ray had memorized from the Records. Oeth made an exultant figure-eight, and J'ray felt a surge of adrenaline flood his veins.

J'ray was just about to ask Oeth to give the command for the wing's landing when Oeth said urgently, _Jusuth says J'bie wants to grab some leaves from that tree on the cliffside! He's unbuckling his straps—_

_Stop the little fool!_ J'ray saw the bluerider swoop down, around and below the queens, and realized that he was too late. He pictured the coordinates where he wanted his dragon to go and felt the cold of _between_ instantaneously. He popped back into the warm air just above the cliff's level and saw J'bie reaching out to grab a handful of leaves from one of the highest trees right below him, when suddenly the boy tumbled loose from his seat on Jusuth.

_Under him!_ J'ray told his dragon, and he noted the queens, N'mon's bronze, and the browns

from his wing gathering below them both, ready to catch J'bie if J'ray and Oeth couldn't. _If only we could get a little lower,_ J'ray wished, _and a little to the right._ Oeth pulled the location from J'ray's mind and took him there, blinking _between_ and back, leaving J'ray with a startled sensation that time had somehow stopped or gone backwards a few seconds in the time it took to go _between_.

Finding himself below the falling bluerider, J'ray lifted his upper body as far off his dragon as his straps would allow; with a bellow of triumph, he felt J'bie drop heavily into his arms. He managed to get the bluerider over Oeth's back, his arms holding the young man's body in place. Suddenly, Oeth let out a piercing scream of pain, and they started their own descent, entirely too fast. J'ray heard himself scream as well as Oeth's pain flooded through him.

_My wing!_ screamed Oeth, his link with J'ray seeming to falter momentarily and then returning like a searing burn in his brain.

“STAY WITH ME!” Later, J'ray wasn't sure if he screamed out loud or not. All he could remember was Oeth's pain and how his mind's openness to his dragon's suffering made him feel like his own left shoulder-blade was being ripped out of his skin. _Oeth, you MUST stay with me!_ he begged.

_It hurts!_ He heard Oeth and felt a quick burst of relief through the terror and pain. _But I will try not to leave you!_

J'ray was aware of a hard landing, but his thoughts were too full of Oeth's pain to become aware of his own. “ _Stay!_ Stay with me! If you go _between_ , we will all die! You, me, J'bie, and Jusuth!” The screams tore from his throat, and he fought the urge to pass out. _I have to stay with Oeth. I will stay with Oeth!_

“Get some numbweed and some fellis juice, immediately!” The last thing he heard was a woman's voice, and then he passed out.

 


	5. Not the Time

J'ray woke up, his mouth dry and every muscle and joint aching. His mind reached for his dragon's even before his eyes opened, and he heard someone say, “Oeth is still alive. Go back to sleep.”

He ignored the command and rubbed his eyes. “I feel like I've been drugged and beaten,” he said, his voice a harsh croak. He opened his gritty eyes to see Loya sitting by his bedside.

“You have been drugged, but not beaten,” Loya told him. “At least, not intentionally. Even with Rowath, Bith, and my Tayith there to catch you, you were still bruised in the landing. I expect you will be sore for a while.”

“J'bie? Jusuth?”

“The others are fine. Rowath stopped Jusuth from going _between_ in the shock of his rider falling off. You caught J'bie just in time to avoid that tragedy.” She began fussing with the sleeping furs tucked around J'ray's body. Something about the gesture made J'ray suspicious, and he caught her hand in one of his.

“You said Oeth is alive, and I can feel him sleeping now. Is... is he going to be all right?”

Loya looked at him, her expression sad. “Sakora says that Oeth will never fly again. There was too much damage to his left wing. He basically took a tree through it to get you to J'bie in time.” The junior weyrwoman watched J'ray's face as she spoke, waiting for the words to sink in.

“You can't be sure of that yet.” J'ray clung to hope. “It could heal, right?”

Loya looked down at her hands. “J'ray, there is still a chance of infection. There is no chance of flying again. The tree branches ripped right through most of the wing. We don't know how it's going to heal, but Oeth has been a real trooper about the pain, telling Rowath that he _must_ live for you—”

J'ray stood up, interrupting Loya's explanation. He had a moment of annoyance at the recognition that he was naked. “Where is he? Where am I? I need to see Oeth now!”

“In a ground-level weyr, of course,” Loya answered, handing him a pair of freshly-laundered breeches, which he impatiently stepped into. She motioned to the sleeping dragon nearby.

_J'ray?_ J'ray was so overjoyed to hear Oeth's thoughts in his mind again that he stopped short for a second. _We are both awake at the same time! This is good._ Oeth sounded tired, but as content as possible, considering his wing still throbbed a little despite the liberal coating of numbweed. His bronze had a grayish tinge to it, though, which almost panicked J'ray. He swallowed hard. It would do no good to pass that panic on to Oeth.

Loya had stopped beside him in concern, but she must have realized that he was talking to Oeth because she gave a small smile. J'ray asked, “How did we here?”

“This is one of the outermost weyrs,” Loya explained. “N'mon organized your whole wing to lift you back in the air and fly you straight back to the Weyr. It was slow going, but Oeth was wild and would not go _between_ because you did not want him to. N'mon wanted Sakora and Rowath to order him to do so, but Rowath said it was a bad idea. You have been asleep for the better part of two days. I dosed you myself.”

_Rowath was afraid that we might stay_ between _because my wing hurt so much!_ Oeth exclaimed in J'ray's mind. _But you told me to stay with you, and I did until Rowath said that it was all right to let them carry you away to heal you._

J'ray could not recall any of the trip. “All I remember is screaming,” he admitted.

_I stayed with you,_ reassured his dragon. _You are my rider, and you did not want to go_ between _yet._

J'ray sent Oeth his most loving thoughts as Loya slowly uncovered the bandaged wing so that she could apply fresh numbweed.

When J'ray saw the damage to Oeth's wing, he almost threw up. Oeth clumsily stood up, his eyes changing from a dull yellow-grey to orange. _Is it so bad?_ he asked, worriedly. It was clear that his rider's opinion was the only one that mattered to him.

“It is bad,” J'ray admitted out loud, so that Loya would be included in the conversation, “but what matters is that we are both alive and still have each other, my bigger half!” Oeth settled back down at J'ray's response, and Loya placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” she said, but J'ray waved a hand, cutting her short.

“You tried to warn me, but there was nothing you could have said to prepare me for that.” The membranes had indeed been ripped clear of the delicate boning of Oeth's wing. Many of the bones had been set to the best of the dragonhealers' ability, but it was obvious now to J'ray that the wing would never work correctly again. _To_ _never fly again—that will be worse than death. Maybe we should have gone_ between, _after all!_ But he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind, not wanting to upset Oeth. _We will have to fly again,_ he thought to himself, desperately.

“Oeth has been very brave for you,” Loya said, “and now you must be brave for him.”

“Yes,” J'ray mumbled. What would they even do, he and Oeth? Retire, like a few of the very oldest riders, who slept most of the days away in their weyrs, waiting for death? He was too young for that. “I guess it's time to face facts, then,” he said to Loya, and he impatiently swept back the tapestry to the opening of the weyr and looked out across the busy Weyr Bowl.

“What rotten, sharding timing! Why didn't that little fool get Zilth out of the Weyr?”

J'ray watched the green dragon take off into the air on a mating flight, and some blues, browns, and a few bronzes took off after her. Oeth had caught Zilth several times, and they had always been especially enjoyable flights for J'ray. He saw Jesla, her rider, looking confused, as the men guided her back to her own weyr. After ten years in the Weyr, the woman still seemed surprised every time her dragon rose. But there weren't many female greenriders these days, and she was very popular among the browns and bronzes.

He looked at Oeth, anxiously, but his dragon did not seem disturbed. The junior weyrwoman did, however.

“As soon as she emerges from her weyr, I am going to throttle that woman!” Loya was fuming. “Didn't you and she... Didn't...”

_I have caught Zilth in the past,_ Oeth said. _But my wing is hurt. Someone else will catch her today._ The dragon sounded matter-of-fact, and J'ray laughed shortly, catching Loya's hand in his own and then dropping it as if it burned him.

“He's fine, so don't get into such a temper,” he said. He was very aware of the mating flight himself, however, and stopped himself just short of pulling Loya into his arms, as he would a willing woman from the Lower Caverns. That was no way to behave with a weyrwoman, he thought.

_I would not mind if you and Loya have sex_ , Oeth said, drowsily. He turned around a little on his bed to put his face to the wall, as if to give them privacy. Where had a dragon learned the concept of privacy, J'ray wondered.

The goldrider's face turned crimson, and J'ray realized that Oeth had included her in his announcement.

“I have... things to attend to,” she stammered. “This... this is not the time...” Turning, she ran quickly from the weyr, and J'ray decided it was time for a long, hot bath.

 


End file.
